Give Me A Sign
by TurianRebel
Summary: This story follows the romance between Garrus Vakarian and Teagan Shepard, beginning with Mass Effect 2. Original dialogue used as well as completely original dialogue. Currently rated M for future situations and content. I hope you love this story as much as I love writing it! *Currently chapter one is a preview and is not finished*


**Give Me A Sign**

-Chapter 1: Dead Like Me-

**~preview~**

_"Commander Shepard? Garrus Vakarian. I was the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren."_

Suddenly, Garrus awoke, his head snapping back up from where he had let it droop. Falling asleep randomly was becoming a habit of his, one that he tried very hard to prevent. Being here on Omega, all alone, he was at the greatest risk, but sleep still attempted to claim him whenever things got quiet for more than a few minutes. He coughed, his throat stinging from dehydration, which he had only recently developed. Days with little to drink had made him weak, and his body was starting to wear down. Fatigue became a recurring symptom, now coupled with dehydration and exhaustion. In the rare moments he managed to sleep, all he could think about was everything that happened to him before he got to this point, even things from when he was a child. It's like his mind was throwing out whatever it could to keep him sane.

Slowly, he sat more upright, turning his head to look over his right shoulder. As soon as his eyes made it over the barrier, he gazed down into the open area below his hideout, scanning it for anything that could be moving. The bodies of several Eclipse mercs still remained from where he had shot them yesterday, and he wondered why other gang members hadn't come to claim them. Perhaps they were hoping that he would venture down there to check the men for heatsinks or other useful materials, but he had no intention of doing that. The one thing that Turians were taught from birth was to be one step ahead of the enemy, and to never turn your back on them. Going down there would certainly be walking into a trap, him being the mouse, and the mercs being the cheese. No, that wouldn't happen.

He slumped back down, glancing over at what little supplies that he had left. His food rations were low, and his small container of water was nearly empty. Before he sealed off the doors below him, he used to exit out that way to gather more ammo and whatever food he could find. Afterwards, there was obviously no way for him to go through there anymore. His only option would have been to go down to the lower level and attempt to get through, even though he knew that there would be mercs crawling all over the place. Unfortunately, he had put himself in a tough spot. Either the local gangs would overwhelm him and kill him, or he would die of starvation and malnutrition. At this point, even his armor was feeling looser, indicating that he had, in fact, lost some weight somewhere. Dying on Omega was more and more real every day, but he refused to give in. He refused to let the men that he lost die in vain. If it was the last thing he ever did, it would be avenging them. The same ideals he was brought up with from birth were what kept him alive now. Turians didn't back down, they fought until the very end, which was exactly what he planned to do now.

All he could hear was his own breathing, his breath weak as it created condensation on his helmet. It was quiet again…too quiet. When it got like this, it meant they were up to something again; something that he'd have to wait until the last moment to see. Once more, he scooted back up, armor scrapping against the stone as he moved up. Again, he peered over the edge for a moment, before quickly twisting around to get on one knee. His whole body was stiff from where he had nodded off to sleep, but he ignored it's protests and continued to move. He took his rifle from where it had been leaning against the wall and aimed it over as far as he could see, positioning himself so that he could see down the scope.

It was then that he the last thing he expected to see; an N7 insignia. "What?" he whispered softly to himself as he shook his head for a moment. At this point, he was certain that he was hallucinating. The only people who ever frequented Omega were mercs and the civilians that lived here, who might as well have been mercenaries as well, based on how most of them had to live. He looked down the scope again, his grip on his gun tightening as he focused on his target yet again. Once more, he was able to make out the familiar symbol—the white "N7" with the red shape to the right of it—but he still couldn't believe it. It had been quite a while since he had seen that logo anywhere, but the image of it in his head was still very clear in his mind like he had seen it yesterday. Then, he laid on the second thing that he thought he would never see again in his life.

Shepard.


End file.
